Driven
by Devilzzz
Summary: It was just supposed to last one hour - Harry wanted to see how it would feel to hold her...but then things went too far. [Chapter Eleven Up] H/HR, D/HR and a bit R/HR. Please R & R.
1. A Lesson In Potions

Driven  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, I just own the plot and anybody you aren't familiar with. Summary: Harry is an angst-ridden teenager that has been through many traumatizing events. His best friends are the world to him...but one of them is much more...H/HR,R/HR.  
  
"Look, Harry, I don't know what to do, alright? He's getting more jealous and jealous every time I see him. I mean, the first time we started out, the Viktor thing was sort of cute in a way, you know? And I was a bit discouraged about him and Fleur, but...now it's gone too far." Sixteen year old Hermione Granger sprawled across her armchair, sinking her head back into the warmth.  
  
"You can't blame him for being overprotective, 'Mione. I mean, after all, it's been over five years and now that he's finally got you...guess he's just a bit insecure and stuff," Harry tried to explain, running his hand through his messy black hair.  
  
"I knew you would take his side! But God, Dean was just telling me he liked my hair -and Ron went all mad at me for no reason at all. What kind of a person is that?" she exclaimed.  
  
"When you're done talking about me," said a voice from the doorway. Harry and Hermione both turned their heads and saw Ronald Weasley, glaring at them from the potrait hole. He entered himself into the common room and without so much as a glance at them, stomped up the stairs.  
  
Harry felt his pulse tightening slightly. He had been in fights with Ron before, of course, but his glaring face looked so angry that he felt it would take more than a week to get over. He examined Hermione, who's cheeks were now flushed with embarrassment, her hair's tiny ringlets framing the sides of her face, frowning a bit. She had always looked cute when she was deep in thought - the way her legs were crossed made Harry gulp...  
  
"I better go talk to him," she said, sighing finally. Harry restrained a groan of disappointment as she got up, her robes swaying behind her. It was hard to pinpoint the exact date that Harry had started having feelings for Hermione, perhaps it had started when the tingling sensation had spread in the end of his fourth year when she had kissed him on the cheek - or perhaps it was just a way to replace Cho. It was strange, how he felt no anger nor resentment toward the pretty Asian, although she had acted quite selfishly. Hermione occupied his thoughts most of the time he was in Potions, how soft her lips were and looked; but he had ignored these feelings of attraction. It was just hormones, he convinced himself. Nothing else. He would never act on his feelings. Hermione knew who she liked - it was Ron. They were clearly in love, even though they acted like they hated each other most of the times, arguing. But sometimes Harry would come into the common room and catch Hermione laughing at one of Ron's queries, or sometimes she would lean over, her hair brushing against Ron's face while she checked over his Transfiguration essays. He looked gleaming when they had finally gotten together at the start of their sixth year, and Harry had found it hard to be very happy for them. What he felt like was his stomach lurching whenever he caught Hermione kissing Ron before a Qudditch match, wishing him good luck, not completely ignoring Harry, but giving Ron the special treatment.  
  
Harry knew he was being selfish, conceited and arrogant. After all, Ron hardly got anything, and now that he was a Prefect and had a nice girlfriend, it wasn't as though he didn't deserve it. Harry waited a few moments before he decided he would sleep in his armchair in the common room. He knew it was crazy - but he knew he would regret it if he went upstairs, where Hermione and Ron were surely making up by now.  
  
***  
  
The next morning, Hermione and Ron were over the fight. Ron was extra careful, it seemed, not to do anything to upset his girlfriend. She smiled at him, and Harry watched her intently - it was not often he saw her smile like that, she had never smiled at him like that - a small, lopsided smirk that seemed to create the twinkle in her eyes. Her lips looked glossy and tender, and as she pushed her hair between her fingers and behind her ears, she looked more than ever like the pretty girl who had attended the Yule Ball with Viktor Krum.  
  
***  
  
"Can you believe it?" Ron complained, his mouth turned into a furious frown. "Snape that old bastard - he gave me detention again!"  
  
"If only you would let me help you on that Polyjuice Potion, Ron. We've done it before, you know..." Hermione reasoned.  
  
"How was I supposed to know that I did one of the ingredients wrong?" he hissed.  
  
"By checking the book," said Harry, amused.  
  
"Oh, shut up," he replied, annoyed with himself. He kissed Hermione quickly on the cheek before he went back to the Potions classroom for the date of his detention.  
  
Harry turned away at this sight of affection - his stomach lurched once more as Hermione turned to look at him and they walked beside each other, heading to the Great Hall. They were both silent - Hermione's nose was twitching as she stared intensely at her shoes. There was something on her mind, Harry knew. He always knew. He liked to see her think - it made him feel comfortable.  
  
"What's wrong?" he finally asked.  
  
She looked up at him, throughly startled. "Oh...I was just thinking. About Ron and all."  
  
"Oh." This was not the answer Harry was looking for.  
  
"Listen, Harry," she suddenly said. "I think ...I need to go to the library, okay?"  
  
"Okay," he agreed, his voice sounding dead-prone. She walked away, and soon her footsteps were miniscule.  
  
Harry stopped walking, losing his appetite. He didn't want to eat - all he wanted to do was to drown in the fantasies of kissing Hermione, holding her, but knew if she ever found out, she would be repulsed by him. They were only friends, and it had to stay that way.  
  
He turned his back on the direction of the Great Hall, going to the common room.  
  
Harry Potter had never envied Ron so much in his life.  
  
*** Somebody was already in the common room when he entered. He stared, widening his eyes at the sight before him. Hermione was hunched up, her back to him, in one of the armchairs by the fireplace. She had her knees touching the point of her small, dimpled chin, and she was lightly sobbing.  
  
"Hermione?" he said cautiously.  
  
She didn't hear him. Her shoulders were shaking. A stab of pain hit Harry's spine. He did not like to see her in so much sadness - but he was puzzled. What could she be crying for? A bad grade? Perhaps something had happened...  
  
Silently, he walked upstairs to his dormotories, not feeling right disturbing her. But the blare of her crying was still ringing in his ears. If he was Ron...he could've put his arms around her, kiss her...touch her in her most sensitive places, make her feel better...if only.  
  
He had imagined what it would feel like for quite a while. The only real kiss he had was with Cho, and it was a quick, colliding of the lips. And she had been crying about Cedric. It did not count very much to his experience. The thought of Ron kissing Hermione passionately...him holding her in bed...  
  
How far had they went? he thought. It's none of your buisness, a tiny voice retorted angrily at him. But what if they had slept together? They were both sixteen after all; but he couldn't imagine Hermione doing this very fast in their relationship. He wondered how it would feel, to make love to her, kiss her tenderly...push the hair off her face...  
  
He shifted, feeling rather uncomfortable. He couldn't be thinking about these things, especially since she was his best friend's girlfriend...it would be wrong.  
  
Harry threw his robes off carelessly, and it hit the floor. There was a clank as it did.  
  
Curious, he picked up his robes and searched within the pockets - of course, it was vial of Polyjuice Potion Snape had made them do. He looked at it, palming it in his hand as he relaxed against his bed.  
  
He looked over at Ron's bed, which was placed beside his. A crazy thought occured to him as he went toward the bed, and seperated the curtains around it. He leaned over, eyeing the white sheets.  
  
To his surprise, he saw a thinlike flaming piece of hair on one of the pillows. Carefully, he prodded it in his finger.  
  
He took the small vial of Polyjuice Potion, and let the flaming hair swim into the liquid.  
  
It turned a bloodred color.  
  
It sizzled.  
  
*** 


	2. More Than Just An Hour

Driven  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, I just own the plot and anybody you aren't familiar with.  
  
Summary: Harry is an angst-ridden teenager that has been through many traumatizing events. His best friends are the world to him...but one of them is much more...H/HR,R/HR.  
  
Acknowledgement: Ellen, the author, who showed that "sometimes there's no happily ever after, but there is happiness" with her story, "Hard Love". [Not like fantasy but more than just a game] [Gio & M]. Thanks.  
  
Harry drank the potion with one, satisfied gulp. It tasted strangely of a bad mixture of oranges and oil. His skin began to crawl, but he was already used to this. His body rippled in slight pain as he closed his eyes. Within one or two motions, he looked down, and was amazed to see the transformation had taken place. He was Ron. Tall, and gangly, his shirt felt a bit more tighter, his pants were more looser, and when he looked in the mirror, he recieved the biggest shock of all: Ron's freckled face was staring back at him. Catching his breath, he put his school robes over him and reluctantly began walking downstairs.  
  
***  
  
5 hours later  
  
Ron was washing the vials with the utmost intensity, glaring at Snape with loathing looks every so often. He hated Potions, but not as much as he hated Snape, and detention. His limbs were tired, aching with numbness.  
  
"Is that all, Professor?" he asked hopefully.  
  
Professor Snape raised an eyebrow. "It's only been twenty minutes, Mr. Weasley. Continue," he sneered, a smirk washing over his face.  
  
Ron made a raw animal noise, and began muttering things under his breath as he cleaned.  
  
"Professor Snape! Professor Snape!" somebody called. Ron turned around and saw a crying, blubbering second year in the doorway.  
  
"What is it, Tiffany?" Professor Snape quickly asked.  
  
"He did it again! Crabbe did it again! He broke it, Dad!"  
  
"How many time do I have to tell you not to call me -" Professor Snape glanced at Ron, then glared at Tiffany. Ron was trying hard to develope this information in his mind.  
  
"Weasley, you're finished, we'll continue tomorrow," he growled.  
  
Ron smiled, and started to head toward the doorway. But not before he gave Tiffany a wink and a grin.  
  
***  
  
5 hours earlier  
  
Harry walked downstairs, and was not surprised to see Hermione was still crying, his back to her.  
  
"Hermione?" he whispered cautiously. "Hermione?" he said a bit more louder.  
  
She turned her head, and promptly dried her eyes with the back of her hand. "Ron! What're you doing here? Don't you have detention?"  
  
"Err...he let me off early," Harry said nervously.  
  
"Oh."  
  
"What's wrong?"  
  
She managed a false laugh. "Oh, nothing."  
  
Harry took a seat across from her in the armchair, looking at her expectantly.  
  
"Look, Ron," she said, sniffling. "We need to talk."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"I don't think...I don't think it's going to work."  
  
Harry could hear the words, but could not understand them correctly. "What?" he said, aghast.  
  
"Look," Hermione croaked, pushing the strands of hair in the back of her ears, "I am so sorry...I just...you don't love me Ron. You never did."  
  
"What? What're you talking about?" he asked. Harry wasn't quite sure what he was saying. This wasn't supposed to happen...he just wanted to comfort her. He didn't want to become Ron, he didn't want to be the one facing the problems...  
  
"Don't you get it, Ron? I have never loved anybody as much as I loved you," she started to say. It caused Harry's throat to form a lump rising; that meant she never loved Harry the same she did as Ron.  
  
"But all the fights we keep having...we were always friends, Ron, remember? We started out as friends. And then, things got so complicated; you asked me out, I accepted, because I thought you felt the same way. But you don't. We don't even kiss as much. You get annoyed by me. You don't like me at all."  
  
Ron would know how to handle this, Harry thought. He squirmed uneasily seeing Hermione cry. Not knowing what he was doing, he headed to her armchair and wrapped himself around her, knowing it would do no good. But it felt good. Her skin against his, her lips against his neck, her tears staining the front of his robes...  
  
He rubbed her back, feeling awkward. He had done the same with Cho once before, but this was different. This was Hermione, and Hermione wasn't just a "crush". She was much more. She lifted her head, looking at him, circles under her eyes.  
  
"Hi," he whispered stupidly.  
  
"Hi," she replied, restraining a smile. Before anything could stop him, he leaned forward and kissed her.  
  
It was something he had never felt before; there was a feeling that scared him, the tingling sensation throughout his body, his body paralyzed, just like with Cho. But it was different, it was more sensual...she grabbed his back, and pressed her chest against his, and he made a small noise, and then remembered...Ron.  
  
The way she was pulling at his hair, because she thought he was a different, more sympathetic Ron. The way she kissed him because she thought he was Ron. It was only because he was Ron...she had no idea who he really was. And now Harry was making the biggest mistake of his life. Kissing his best friend's girl. Kissing the same lips Ron had kissed...  
  
He pulled away, wiping his lips on the back of his hand. She bit her lip, an unreadable look in her eyes.  
  
"I knew it," she murmured. "You're repulsed by me...you're repulsed."  
  
"No," he kept saying over and over. "No, I..."  
  
"Explain it then," she said, her eyes twitching, tears welling. "Why did you let go, then? You've never kissed me like that, before, Ron...I bet you realized I was Hermione and let go."  
  
"That's - that's awful and you know it," he stammered. You've never kissed me like that before, Ron, she had said. There was a pang in his chest, refusing to relent.  
  
"It's the truth, and you know it," Hermione said furiously. She sprung up from the armchair, but Harry grabbed her by the arm, and she turned around, a gape twisted in her mouth. It was as if they could both feel the tingling, the feeling that was rising, crawling through their skin.  
  
"Don't leave yet," he finally said. "Stay."  
  
Hermione's eyes bore into his, and she finally headed toward the armchair, but he stopped her.  
  
"Wait." He sat in the armchair and pulled Hermione over, and placed her on his lap, his hand on her hip, grazing it. He sighed, feeling complete contempt. She was looking frightened, but he placed the tip of her head on his chest, and she closed her eyes, shivering every so often.  
  
***  
  
Ron was walking toward the common room, when someone grabbed his robes.  
  
"What the -" he yelled, but a voice said, "Petrificus Totalus!" and he went numb in the floor.  
  
"Quick, the spell won't last forever. The sleeping potion! Hurry!" a familiar voice yelled, and there were footsteps. Ron's mouth was opened and a stingy substance was pulled into his mouth, and he savored the bittersweet taste.  
  
Soon, darkness filled him.  
  
***  
  
Harry awoke a few hours later, with Hermione in his arms. He wanted to wake her, he wanted to feel her lips against his again, but knew it was impossible. He would back out as soon as possible; he would never be able to do that to Ron. Last night had been a mistake, a night of foolishness. With difficulty, he quietly emerged from the tangled Hermione in his warmth with regret, and walked up the stairs. It was about midnight, he assumed, and then a sudden thought struck him: Ron had sooner or later come in and seen them...  
  
A feeling of dread overcame him, washing over his skin. You've gone through badder stuff this, he assured himself, walking up the stairs and opening the door to his dorms.  
  
When he did, he saw Ron's bed was empty. Biting his lip, his head went over all the possibilities of what could've happened to him. Perhaps he was so jealous and angry that he went outside? Perhaps...  
  
He put a hand through his hair, and then froze in realization. His hair didn't feel...messy. It felt slick...and lighter.  
  
Hadn't the potion worn off yet?  
  
He ran to the mirror, and to his horror, he saw Ron's face staring back at him.  
  
*** 


	3. How Did He Know?

Driven  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, I just own the plot and anybody you aren't familiar with.  
  
Summary: Harry is an angst-ridden teenager that has been through many traumatizing events. His best friends are the world to him...but one of them is much more...H/HR,R/HR.  
  
Acknowledgement: Ellen, the author, who showed that "sometimes there's no happily ever after, but there is happiness" with her story, "Hard Love". [Not like fantasy but more than just a game] [Gio & M]. Thanks.  
  
Hermione woke up, expecting Ron to be beside her on the armchair. Instead, there was nobody but her in the common room. She could vaguely recall what had happened last night, but a headache was building, crumbling her training of thoughts. Brushing herself off, she examined the windows and realized the sky was still darkened, but it was surely morning. She began walking slowly up the steps.  
  
***  
  
Harry was beside himself in startled shock. Perhaps it was a mistake - but was it possible he had made an error making the Polyjuice Potion? No, it was impossible. He had done it, and seen it done so many times that he was practically the expert of it. In fact, Harry remembered that yesterday, Snape was grumbling about giving him a higher grade on his success. So what was wrong?  
  
The only person that would know would be Hermione, but he couldn't ask her that. Surely she would figure it out. His touch, and kiss was much more different than Ron's, and she had already emphasized greatly on that. He didn't want to make her any more suspicious.  
  
His head went through all the possibilities: it was possible he had made a tiny mistake. A bad amount of an important ingredient, perhaps. But he had checked so many times. Still possible, however. It was also possible that it was something else. Maybe he should've read the fine print much more clearly. But it said nothing about this, did it? A nervewrecking expense made his knees buckled underneath him. What if he stayed like this forever? The chaos, the uproar of the situation began to tumble across him. He took a deep breath knowing the only person to go to: Dumbledore.  
  
***  
  
Ron shifted in his sleep. The vivid dream was crossing his mind:  
  
He was at The Burrow again. Ginny was pestering him on when Harry would come back, yes that was it. Hermione finally managed to sneak Ron away, and they were kissing...she was pulling on his shirt buttons, and he didn't stop her. There was no way he could. There was no control at all...  
  
And then, his mother's voice yelled from downstairs, "Ron! Harry's here!"  
  
Hermione let go and hurried downstairs. Ron followed her, watching as she embraced Harry and kissed him. But they wouldn't stop...  
  
"Stop it," he kept yelling. "She's mine, she's mine..."  
  
"Not anymore," Harry was saying, and he was pulling her more tightly into his embrace...  
  
Ron yelled as he awoke, and felt his legs and arms feel as if they had never made a movement. Struggling to get up, he realized he was in a cupboard of some sort...there was only darkness, and very little space. He frantically pushed against the door, and to his utter relief, it fell open. Crawling out, he shut the door, and realized the door had vanished - he widened his eyes, but shook himself and began walking, looking over his shoulder every so often. As he crossed one of the familiar corridors leading to the Gryffindor Common Room, he hurried across the hall - and he saw a figure pass by him, running. Ron looked back, and a gasp caught in his throat as he saw flaming red hair on the figure - he shook himself.  
  
He was seeing things. But why did the person have such a resemblence to him? He turned back, and gave the password, and proceeded to walk through the potrait hole.  
  
***  
  
Harry was dazed as he stepped forward. Hadn't he seen someone that looked just like Ron pass by? But what would Ron be doing this early in the morning -?  
  
"Mr. Weasley!"  
  
Harry didn't turn at first, but when the command was repeated, he suddenly realized he was the one being spoken to and turned around. It was Dumbledore.  
  
"Oh, Headmaster..." he started to say.  
  
"What're you doing so early?"  
  
"I need to speak to you." Harry almost debated on whether or not he should ask Dumbledore the same question.  
  
"Alright, Mr. Weasley. Come along," he said, motioning him forward. Harry followed Dumbledore until he stopped in front of an unused classroom. He stared.  
  
"Alohomora!"  
  
The door swung open. Soon, Dumbledore and Harry were both seated across from each other in a round table.  
  
"Err...Headmaster?" Harry asked.  
  
"Yes, Mr. Weasley?"  
  
"Wouldn't it be more comfortable in your office?"  
  
"Why go through all the trouble? Go on, Mr. Weasley, you wanted to speak to me?"  
  
"Err...yes. It's about my friend. I can't tell you who, but my friend sort of...used Polyjuice Potion to become an imposter, and now he can't change back even though hours has...passed." Harry looked down at his knees.  
  
There was a slight pause before Dumbledore spoke. "I see, Mr. Weasley. Well, well. I suppose the only reason the Polyjuice Potion - that I can think of - hasn't worn off yet is because, the person has such a feirce ambition to stay where he or she is."  
  
"What?"  
  
Dumbledore leaned forward, clearing his throat. "Before you get accepted at Hogwarts, you are shown of some magical ability. Such as moving things as a toddler, or perhaps making somethings happen by strongly thinking it. Whoever your friend is, they have to have succeeded their goal if they have one using Polyjuice Potion, or want to get out."  
  
"But...my friend does want to get out."  
  
"Well, then, I don't know what to say to you, Mr. Weasley."  
  
"There's nothing else- my friend can do? To prevent...it being permanet?"  
  
"They can do very little. Unless his or her mind is upon thinking they have succeeded their goal and need to go back, then it is likely the person might be stuck; the longest I can say is a couple of weeks."  
  
"A couple of weeks?!" Harry exclaimed.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"But...but..."  
  
"Tell your friend to be patient, Mr. Weasley. Anything else?"  
  
"No," Harry mumbled, distraught.  
  
"Alright. Head off now."  
  
Harry obeyed, but just as he was opening the door, he heard Dumbledore say, "Oh, and good luck..., Harry."  
  
Harry left the room hurriedly, but couldn't help but gaping when he left.  
  
***  
  
Sorry I forgot how Dumbledore's office is and what kind of statue is in front of it and I am too lazy to check. Anyways, there's no H/HR in this chapter, but be patient. Harry will learn his goal soon.  
  
Thanks for all the encouraging reviews!!! Remember to leave another one! Love, S.A. Court 


	4. She's Ready X&X How To Tell Her

**__**

Driven

Acknowledgement: Ellen, for her "Hard Love" (story).

Malfoy. The word screamed out at him, rushed him into furious rage, and made him clench his fists inwardly every so often. But now this was serious. Malfoy had played an unworthy trick on him; he should of expected it, after all, Ron had insulted his mother in the hallways more than once, but only due to the fact that Malfoy had been making his life living hell. It was well-known the Slytherins loved to torture him on his lack of talent on the Qudditch field with the nasty duet they sang whenever they passed by him. But now it was serious. They had done something to him; every so often Ron would try to stay awake but he fell into a deep sleep, with nightmares of Voldemort, his family being crushed apart, Harry and Hermione dying or injured. He had no idea how Malfoy had made the potion - although Snape was a loathing opponent to Gryffindors, it was unlikely that he had given Malfoy instructions to do so. But now Ron couldn't stop sleeping, and he knew he would miss his classes - for some reason it made him frustrated that nobody noticed what he was going through - it was the exact opposite of insomnia...the weariness, the depression, his eyes would close every few seconds, without even grasping the vision of his world before he did.

***

Harry worried all night. He was too afraid to look in Ron's bed, because he expected to see Ron in it, accusing him of being a traitor. It had been wrong from the start; how many times did he have to wish he had never taken that one sip of Polyjuice Potion? He would never have Hermione, of course, but at least he would be out of the mess. What was better, the risk of being stuck in somebody else's place, the risk of losing the two most important things in his life, or just a silly crush? Of course it wasn't a crush, but Harry paraphrased slightly to himself. He couldn't love his best friend - because she was already committed to somebody was very important to him. So why had he tried?

That's right Harry, he thought to himself bitterly. Dumbledore told you that to get out of this mess with your life intact, you needed to find out what was your mission. What was it? To hold her. To kiss her. 

To make love to her. He gulped, closing his eyes. A dreading feeling was thumping against his chest, and for the first time, he wished that he was back to the Dursley's, where the only problem was Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia screaming about magic, and Dudley's presence. It was not exactly 'home', but he'd rather take it than this.

At least he had never had more problems there than Dudley's moaning about dieting. 

***

It was romantic, Hermione assured herself. He is romantic. Ron's always been. He's just...never shown it before.

There was something completely different about Ron now, in just a day overnight it seemed as if he had changed, but Hermione couldn't put her finger on why. The way he had moved to the armchair, the things he had said, how he touched her, how he wasn't afraid to show emotion or affection anymore.

A tiny smile appeared in her face. You love Ron, she told herself. He's always been this way. You've just never seen it before...

Biting her lip, she went over the decision she had made. She had been attracted to Ron for over five years, and even if they had only been going out for just a little while, she felt as if she had lived with him for a long time.

Taking a deep breath, she settled into the armchair, telling herself to be comfortable. Sure enough, moments later, Harry appeared at the top of the stairs, going down slowly.

***

He was surprised to see Hermione waiting for him in the morning. Of course, he told himself. Your Ron... a worry embraced him. What if Ron came down not too soon either? What if he saw himself?

Trying to stay free of thoughts, he cautiously went down and Hermione rose, a forced smile plastered to her face.

"Good morning," she whispered, bringing him close to him. Harry took an intake of breath- she smelled like a faint fragrance of perfume, and it was strangely intoxicating. Being closed to her made beads of sweat pour down from the sides of his face. Her forehead went against his, and the heat formed between the flesh.

"I am sorry about complaining," Hermione muttered. "I know you love me. I've been so stupid, Ron."

Ron, Ron, Ron, his mind mocked back at him.

"Maybe," he murmured back. She laughed, and her lips tenderly collided against his. He froze, feeling the paralyzed route course into his legs and arms. The tingling spread throughout his whole body as she kissed him, her soft lips drawing away from his lips and to his jaw line, nipping lightly on his skin. From there she went to his neck, where she began rhythmically kissing. She was pressed against him, just like the way he had imagined for years.

Ron, Ron, his mind prompted at him firmly.

He restrained a groan as he pulled away from her forcefully.

"Hermione..." he started to say, but she placed a finger on his lips.

"Meet me at my Prefect dorm at eight, okay? Password's Evergreen. I've got something to tell you."

With that, she turned around, heading out of the portrait hole, her robes swinging behind her.

"I've got something to tell you too," he mumbled.

But no one could hear him.

***

The next thing he did after this was check upstairs. It was time to face up. It was time to tell the truth. Ron should've known from the beginning.

It was a slow process in which Harry walked upstairs. The endless possibilities taunted at him, but he ignored them bravely. If he had looked at death in the face before - why couldn't he look this in the face responsibly?

It's not death, it's love, another voice said. 

Yeah, but death's the most saddening, frightening prospect, he argued with himself.

He reached the top of the stairs, a though ringing in his ears, in which he refused to hear: but love might be the hardest.

***

"Ron! Ron!" there was an echo - from reality - but Ron couldn't get out of the nightmare. Hermione's scream was drilled in his ears as Voldemort tortured her, and Harry was stunned, on the floor. There was something shaking him...someone...

"Ron! It's me! Are you okay?" a male voice asked. Confusion filled him as he tried to open his eyes. He struggled, but just as he opened his eyes, he only saw a flash of red hair before he fell into darkness of his haven again.

***

"Draco, we might get in trouble," Crabbe said doubtfully, his face blank as usual.

Draco scoffed. "Since when do you care, you big oaf? This is Weasel we're talking about. He's dirt poor, _and _he's a mudblood lover. He doesn't deserve anything. Besides, his father is trying to hit the new promotion that my dad's trying to get. It's strictly on my father's orders. _And _my pleasurable amusement, of course. "

"What is it going to do to him?" Goyle asked, his eyes opening wide, as if he was seeing life for the first time.

A smirk lopsidedly planted on Draco's face. "Oh nothing," he said in mock innocence. "Just ruin his little pathetic life. The potion is a first degree, you see. It'll confront him with his worst fears...and confirm him of them. This is going to be fun, don't you think?"

He looked at them expectantly. They started to laugh evilly as if on queue. 

***

Cruising through her body was the much needed anticipation she had never felt before. Nervousness, nausea, dizziness, and excitement. It was going to happen - and if it worked out - she would be happily committed.

The door to her dorm opened, and she saw Ron standing there. A blush crept to her cheeks.

No, not now, don't freak out yet, her mind screamed at her.

"Hi," she greeted, her voice silky.

"Hermione - there's something..."

"Ron," she said, not hearing him. "I - I've decided something."

Harry looked at her blankly, and she continued, her hands separating the drapes of her black cloak, and let it fall to the floor with a soft thump, so that her naked body was in view. 

He stared at her, apparently trying to grope for words, his mouth opening in a large gape. 

Smiling, still nervous, she finally spoke.

"I am ready."

***


	5. Lifeless and Hard Love Spoken

**__**

Driven

Acknowledgement: To Ellen, for her "Hard Love" [Story].

"Hermione..." he was breathless at the sight of her. Ron, he told himself solidly. Ron's your best friend, you can't do this to him...

He closed his eyes. "I am sorry, Hermione. I have to tell you something."

He could almost feel her frowning across at him. "What is it?" she said, her voice small and crestfallen.

"I am not Ron." It was said. The room loomed with silence, and suddenly a few moments later Hermione snorted.

"Oh, Ron, can you please stop with these little 'practical' jokes? I am getting really tired of them...this is supposed to be the most important night of my life! I thought..." Hermione's voice weakened. "I thought you loved me."

"I do," Harry breathed, not sure if she heard him or not. His eyelids were kept tightly closed. "Put your cloak back on, 'Mione."

There was a movement of fabric and when Harry opened his eyes again, Hermione was fully clothed.

"It's me, 'Mione," Harry said, his voice dead-prone. "It's Harry."

Hermione's eyes widened. "What? What're you - what are you saying, Ron?"

"Harry. Not Ron. I am under the Polyjuice Potion," he said patiently, avoiding her eyes.

"How - how long..." her voice drifted off. She looked at him, a look of disgust relished on her face. "How could you?"

He didn't answer her. He merely became interested in his shoes.

She forced a mirthless laugh. "I am so stupid...my God, I am so stupid...just get out of here, _Harry_."

"Wait...'Mione..."

"Get out!" she shrieked more forcefully, clutching her cloak to herself, collapsing in her bed, her legs up to her chin, eyes closed, tears staining her cheeks

"Here I am, thinking Ron's being romantic..." she laughed. "I can't believe this..." 

Harry cautiously drew closer, and sat at the edge of her bed, looking at her. "I am sorry...I just..."

"Why'd you do it?" she asked, sniffing. "Why, Harry?"

He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. 

"You were there all along, right? From that night I was crying - _oh my God_, I kissed _you_," Hermione exclaimed in realization, scrunching up her face.

A pang hit him in the chest. The way she said it - she was thoroughly disgusted by him.

"No need to sound excited, you seemed to enjoy it,"

prompted sarcastically, a cold glare washing upon his face. "I mean...I just love you, right? What does that matter?" he yelled. His arms began to shake at his sides, and he felt something crawling through his skin, something progressing in his face.

He didn't hear anything as he got up from the bed and walked to the door. He didn't hear Hermione say, "What?", he merely heard the slam of the door as he walked through it, and didn't glance back.

***

"There's something wrong with him!"

"Get somebody quick! Professor McGonagall!"

"He's shaking!" Seamus grabbed Ron's arms, dragging him forward as he shook uncontrollably.

"No! Don't take them!" Ron was yelling furiously, all the blood drained out of his face, his eyes trying to flicker open.

"It's me, calm down," Seamus hissed, but Ron gave the impression that he couldn't hear anything else. 

There was a female scream behind them. Professor McGonagall walked toward them, clutching Ron by the ends of his face.

"Mr. Weasley? Mr. Weasley!" she shrieked, but he kept shaking. Quickly, she took out her wand, performing a high class levitating charm, and started to lead Ron to the Hospital Wing.

***

"What's going on?" Harry entered his dorms, seeing Seamus stand in front of an empty bed. 

He looked up. "It's Ron...there's something wrong with him...Harry, what'd you do to your hair? Did you dye it or something?"

"What do you mean, wrong?" 

Harry felt a felt a fierce flight of panic.

"He's in the Hospital Wing...I better go check on him," Seamus said quickly, eyeing his hair and exiting.

What'd you do to your hair? Harry felt a sudden rippling in his chest as he thought in realization. Quickly, he hurried in front of the mirror, and to his relief, he saw that he was turning back, his own face gaping back at him, red hair slowly dissolving into tangles of raven.

***

"Ron! Ron, can you hear me?" Hermione cried frantically, clutching his wrist.

"Move back, Ms. Granger!" Madam Pomfrey protested, pushing back Hermione, a potion in her hand. She opened Ron's mouth and dipped it inside.

For a moment, everyone seemed to catch their breath as Ron stopped shaking, but a few moments later, he was still continuing the process.

"It seems...like he's been put under a drought of some kind," Madam Pomfrey notified them.

"But...what kind? Sleeping? Which degree?" Professor McGonagall asked, her eyebrows raised.

"It seems...the first."

Professor McGonagall gasped, her hand over her mouth. "But that's illegal!"

"Whoever using it didn't know the...side effects," Madame Pomfrey said sadly, looking at Ron with a frown on her face. "Not only does...it give him nightmares...but..."

"I must go see the Headmaster," Professor McGonagall prompted, turning away, hurrying throughout the door.

"But what?" Hermione cried.

"Yeah?"

They all turned around, and saw Harry standing in the doorway. Seamus managed him a faltering smile. The hospital wing was slightly cramped, because so many Gryffindors had arrived, peering over Hermione's shoulders.

Hermione gave him a glare, but he ignored her, waiting for Madame Pomfrey's answer.

"But...there's also a chance...that..." She gave Hermione a fleeting look.

"What?" 

"That he might die."

***


	6. The Sappiness Ensues

**_Driven_**

Acknowledgment: Ellen, for her "Hard Love" [Story].

"He's screaming!" Hermione exclaimed, horrified.

"Miss Granger, would you please!" Madame Pomfrey prompted, pushing past her, to give Ron his nightly medicine. "With the right form of care, he might be able to survive! Dumbledore has the best medic-wizards and witches coming over next week. Of course, that means I am not good enough for him," Madame Pomfrey huffed impatiently.

"What do you mean he 'might' be able to survive?" Hermione shrieked. "He has to! He just..." her voice trailed off, and she exploded, storming off. Unfortunately, after storming off, she ran into Harry in the hallway.

"Sorry," she muttered carelessly, trying to go past him, but he grabbed hold of her arm.

"Hermione..."

"I have nothing to say to you," she said coldly. "This isn't the time for your little teenage angst corner, Harry. Ron might _die_. Now I know you might be used to people dying for you, but - but -" she broke off, tears rolling down her cheeks. "I am so sorry," she breathed. "I didn't mean to imply about your parents..."

He didn't respond. Wrapping his arms around her, he felt her frail body writhe and shake in his warmth. He felt good close to her like this; it was like old times, where they were only friends. Where the three of them could only be friends, nothing else. And now she was dating Ron, his best friend, who might die. Just like Sirius. If Ron died, who else did he have, besides Hermione? 

"What if he does, Harry?" Hermione sniffed. "What if he..."

"Don't even think it," Harry warned. "He isn't. I'll die before him...I have to die before him."

"What?" she murmured, her lips caught on his sweater.

"I won't let him die, Hermione," he promised. "I won't. If there's anybody that's going to die, it'll be me. I'll go first."

"Aw, well, isn't this sweet?" said a snarling voice from behind them.

They both turned around from the embrace, and locked eyes with Draco Malfoy. 

***

Draco Malfoy peered over at them, raising an eyebrow suggestively. "I thought you were going out with Weasley, you mudblood," he sneered. "Didn't think he was good enough for you, huh? Or are you with both of them? That could be fun for you, I suppose..."

"Leave us alone, Malfoy!" Hermione shrieked, her arms folded over her chest.

"Did I catch on a nerve?" he drawled, his eyes twinkling beneath lashes. 

"What're you doing here, anyways, Malfoy?" Harry asked, wrapping an arm protectively around Hermione's waist.

"Here to see Weasley's condition - he's going to die, is he?" Draco seemed absolutely gleeful at this embellishing statement. He dug in his robes for his wand, but Harry was much faster. Whipping it out of his robes, he pointed it toward Malfoy and yelled, "Petrificus Totalus!"

With that, Malfoy was struck against the wall, and slid all the way to the floor, his eyes glazed over, his arms to his side, his legs parted a bit, unmoving.

"Harry," Hermione breathed. "You shouldn't have...he just wants the attention..." They both moved away from Malfoy, and walked to another corner of the hallway.

"Do you think he has anything to do with this?" Hermione queried, wincing slightly.

"Knowing Malfoy..." he trailed off, looking at her. She looked flushed, her tears dried, but plastered to her pretty face.

Harry turned to her, a hand to tip her chin upwards. Her breath seemed to go intact for a while, and he leaned over in invitation to her lips. It was heart wrenching as he did this - the sensual kiss seemed to go on for hours when it was merely seconds, their legs tenderly touching, their bodies pressed together. Harry had never felt like this - the dizziness that overcame him, the want that was thumping against his chest. His tongue dipped into the parting of her lips, and she happily welcomed it, their tongues gliding against each other, her chest against his. They moved together, and he knew she could feel the reaction from him as they did. It was going to be painful to let her go - to see her kiss Ron again, and not him...

He brought his hands to her hair, wringing it in his fingers, in the back of his mind mocking and scolding him - it was wrong, but why did it feel so good? He reached underneath her robes, tugging at the buttons of her white blouse underneath, and she gave a small noise, pulling away forcefully. His hands fell away from her hair, and she was looking at him, her eyes welling with tears, her lips looking red, her hair in tangles.

"Why did you do that?" she breathed.

"You didn't...you didn't stop it," he protested.

"Harry, you know I am with Ron!" she snapped, the tears going down her cheeks once more.

"Yeah, that's right, cry, that's what Cho used to do too," Harry retorted snappishly.

She smacked him. It came to him as so startling that he only looked back at her with wide eyes. The stinging sensation was spreading across his cheek, and he was sure his face was gleaming red in embarrassment. She turned away from him, heading in the direction of the Hospital Wing.

"You didn't stop it, Hermione!" he yelled after her. "You responded to it, too! Who are you fooling, 'Mione? Who are you trying to fool? Yourself? You liked it!"

She stopped in her steps, turning around to look at him. Her voice was cold and stony as she spoke. "I...I love Ron, Harry. I am in love with him. You have no idea how that feels."

"_I_ have no idea how it feels?" Harry said, laughing mirthlessly. "I love you, Hermione. I used to think you were just one of my best friends, but I love you more than that. I know exactly how it feels. But there's one thing you don't have to feel, Hermione. It's a little thing called 'rejection'. You don't have to suffer this. You love Ron. Ron loves you more than you can imagine. And if you don't know that, then you're an idiot."

She looked at him for several moments, her face unreadable. Then, she walked away, not turning back.

***

URGH! That must've been the worst chapter I've ever written in my LIFE. I mean, seriously. That SUCKED. SUCKED, SUCKED, SUCKED!!! I understand if none if you ever want to read this again. THAT. SUCKED!!!


	7. I'd Do Anything

**__**

Driven

Acknowledgement: How many times do I have to type this? El, the author.

Hermione took a deep breath, stepping back for a while before approaching Ron's bed once more, and taking his hand, clutching it in her palm. It felt sweaty and heated against hers as she sat down on the little chair beside his bed, her head down on his shoulder.

"Two more days," she breathed. "Two more days until the doctors come. You'll be fine, won't you? Won't you?"

He gave no answer. The only thing that indicated that he was alive was his rapid pulse and his fading heartbeat.

"You're going to be fine," she assured him, might as well have been speaking to herself. "I won't let you die. Neither will Harry."

Ron shook as she said his name, and she jumped back a little, cautiously drawing closer again. "Ron?" she whispered.

No other movement.

"I've done some pretty stupid things in the past few days," she muttered, letting go of his hand. "But, see the thing is, I ...I didn't know what I was doing. Or who I was doing it for...I guess what I am trying to say, Ron...even though you're unconscious..." she laughed nervously. "I ...love you so much...and ...and I can't...I love you, but I can't..."

She stopped at mid-sentence when she saw that Ron was beginning to jerk back and forth, his eyes still tightly shut, but the pain radiating from him was both blunt and obvious. 

"Ron? Ron! Madame Pomfrey!" she cried out, her horror at seeing at the condition Ron was. 

"What is..." Madame Pomfrey had arrived, and looked shaken as she saw Ron in bed. "Oh, no, I was afraid of this."

"Afraid of what? Of what?" Hermione shrieked, but Madame Pomfrey only hung her head, aiding to Ron, and telling her to go notify Professor Dumbledore.

***

Draco Malfoy was whistling smugly to himself as he walked down the hallways, but stood frozen as he saw Hermione Granger run past him.

"Going somewhere, Granger?" he yelled after, raising his wand so that yellow and blue sparks flew out and hit her in the back profusely, leaving her to trip and fall on the floor, glaring at him, as he chuckled cold-heartedly.

"What are you playing at, Malfoy?" 

"Nothing...is your little boyfriend dying?" he taunted. She brushed herself off and aimed to smack him, but he caught her hand.

"Now, you wouldn't want to do that to the only person that can undo the spell, can you?" he said, raising an eyebrow as she struggled against him.

"What?" Hermione questioned, then gasped. "You!" she accused in realization. "You were the one who did this! You son of a..."

"Now, now, Granger. The first degree Sleeping Drought cannot be undone unless by the same person who put it on him."

"I am going to tell the Headmaster!" she spat in his face, but he kept a tight grip on her as she tried to squirm out of reach. He reached inside her robes and pulled out her wand, putting it in his own robes.

"I'd like to see you try. You do that, I'll break your fucking wand in half so you can go back where you came from, mudblood. I can bind you to me with one spell."

She stopped struggling, liquid welling in her eyes of desperation. "You...you wouldn't!"

"Would you like to experiment?" he asked, his eyes steely and narrowed.

"Malfoy..."

He smirked.

"What do you want?" she said, falling limp in his arms. "I'll put a memory charm on Ron so he doesn't remember it was you, but you need to undo this spell before he dies. Please. I'll do anything," she pleaded.

"Really?" 

"Yes," she said, her tone firm and final. She would do anything to save Ron's life. 

His smirk widened to a victorious range. Victory was shining, glowering deeply in his eyes as he said his next few words. "Good, Granger, because I've already got something in mind..."

***

1) What was Hermione going to tell Ron?

2) Will Hermione really do ANYTHING to not risk Ron's life?

3) What the hell happened to Harry?

4) What exactly does Malfoy have in mind...? It's certainly not pretty.

I realize the last chapter sucked, and sorry for the late update but ff.net wasn't working for pretty much everyone for a while, but I think this was a bit better, so please remember to review!

Love,

-S.A. Court


	8. The Bargain And What Came With It

**__**

Driven

Acknowledgment: Ellen.

It was hard love,

every step of the way.

Hard to be close to you...

but hardest to turn away.

- Modified from the lyrics of "Hard Love".

****

"What?" he asked, his voice sounding annoyed as he put his robes back on, fiddling with the belt.

Hermione was currently putting down the creases on her nightgown, looking out the window, her arms folded as if she could not hear him, but that was soon ruined when Draco walked behind her, closing his arms around her shoulders as she took a shuddering gasp, as if repulsed by his mere touch. _But I am not repulsed_, she thought to herself. _Not anymore. That's what scares me the most._

"We'll do it at midnight," he protested to an argument that had already began silently, his lips trailing kisses down her neck. 

He's so gentle, a soothing voice calmed her. _No he isn't_, she insisted. _He's evil...he's rotten..._

"Will he still be alive?" she challenged, her chin upwards, her eyes tightly closed.

"Of course he will...now get back to sleep. You won't have you're energy if you don't, Granger," he snapped, rolling himself gracefully onto the bed, and closing his eyes, his soft breaths filling the room.

Hermione laughed coldly, imitating his perfectly, muttering to herself, "I don't think you're allowed to call me Granger after what just happened."

***

Harry looked at the frozen face, but with no avail did Ron make movement. Madame Pomfrey had settled him down with another potion, but he was weakening, even though Harry couldn't face it. All the years he'd loved Hermione inside, it couldn't even compare the way he felt about Ron. Ron was the thing he'd most miss in fourth year, Ron was his first friend in Hogwarts. Ron was his _best_ friend at Hogwarts. Harry had known his whole family, gone on so many adventures with him, and Ron had risked his life at first year just a chance for Harry to defeat Voldemort.

"Damnit," Harry whispered, leaning over and clutching Ron's hand, "I'd give up _Qudditch_ to just see you open your eyes."

The thought of never being able to see his face again, just like never being able to see Sirius alive again gave him an awful thump in the middle of his chest, and all he could wonder how anybody could make him suffer pain like this again; hadn't he suffered enough? Why didn't everybody just murder every person he talked to? In the midst of his thoughts, Harry yawned, closing his eyes.

__

Ron will be alive, Ron will be alive, he has to, was his last thought before his head plopped into the bedside, his fingers still lingering a person he'd known for over five years.

***

"Draco!" Hermione breathed. "You're stumbling on my foot!"

"Sorry! I just forgot the way," he said stubbornly, and they tried to move among the many layers of silver fabric in the Invisibility Cloak.

"Take the cloak off," she instructed.

"Are you crazy? Filch will see us and he'll have us _strangled_!"

"I don't hear any cat noises, nor Filch noises."

"_Filch _noises?" Draco exclaimed in an amused tone, chuckling.

"Oh, shut up, you," she said, almost saddened to hear her playful range of voice. _Ron, Ron_, she reminded herself. _We're here for Ron. Your boyfriend?!_

"Calm down, I think we just need turn back a few doors, let's do this without the cloak. After all, if we get caught we can just say we're desperate to see Ron," Hermione said logically.

"_I AM_ desperate to see that Weasley?!" Draco said, his voice shaking, echoing in the hallway. Hermione punched him on the shoulder.

"Shut up!" she hissed. "Just carry the cloak, will you..."

Grumbling, he obeyed, the cloak in a bundle of his arms.

"Oh, what if..." Hermione groaned.

"What if what?"

"What if - he - he..."

Draco gave an exasperated sigh, clutching her chin in one hand. "Damnit, Granger, he's _not _going to be dead."

Hermione tried to pull away, but an intensity like no other hovered between them; and it was very hard to do so, her eyes boring into his gray pools.

"You sure?" she murmured.

"Yeah." Awkwardly, they drifted apart before they were in front of the door of the Hospital Wing. It was already opened an inch, to Hermione's delight, as she would not charm it open.

"So...this is it."

"Yeah."

"It either works or doesn't...and if it doesn't, I'll kill you with my bare hands," she threatened, looking at him evilly.

"It'll work," he promised.

They stepped inside, wands in front of them.

***

Songs That I Listened To, Therefore To Be Blamed For The Eternal

Now Four-Love-Triangle- (HERMIONE, DRACO, RON AND HARRY) And Harry's Queer But Adorable WHOLESOME Love For Ron

_Bring Me To Life _**by the lovely, but morbid Evanescence**

__

What Do You Do **by the symbolic The Troys otherwise known as the Troy Sisters**

__

30 Minutes **by the outrageous but out-spoken T.A.T.U. I had no idea this was the Russian version of the song until I listened, so...okay why am I telling you guys this? (I don't speak Russian... *sad sigh*)**

__

You're Still The One **by the soft-voiced Shania Twain.**

Okay, that was a cliffhanger. I can't help it! It's a bit longer though...right? Right? *looks around nervously, sees reviewers come toward her menacingly with lamps...one reviewer says, 'What the hell am I doing with a freaking lamp?*...

Anyways. I loved all of your reviews!!! Except some of you told me to kill off Ron... *glares at reviewers, who cower*...

Now...do it again. Review.

Love,

-S.A. Court


	9. Caught In Between Us

**__**

Driven

Acknowledgment: Ellen.

**__**

Hermione was surprised by the sight before her. Harry's head was settled neatly near Ron's waist, fast asleep.

"We have to be quiet," she whispered to Draco, motioning her head toward the sleeping Harry.

Draco merely snorted in reply as he went before Ron, his wand shaking in his quivering hand as he pointed at Ron's chest.

"Wait!" Hermione hissed, coming closer to him. "Are you sure...?"

He didn't reply. Instead, he flawlessly waved the wand gracefully, and said in a clear and strong voice, "_Oblivito Incantatem!"_

Ron's face twitched, but his eyes remained closed.

"What'd you do that for?" Hermione exclaimed, poking Draco in the back.

He looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "Memory charm. He won't remember it was me..."

"But...what if..."

"Relax, _Obliviate_ is the strongest memory charm. _Oblivito Incantatem _is just to make him forget what happened before he was attacked."

"Alright, then," murmured Hermione, obviously upset that she was not the one having all the information.

"Ready?" he asked her, his wand pointing to Ron's chest once more.

Hermione was about to stammer back a response when somebody already beat her to it.

"Ready for what?" said a cold voice.

They both turned their heads, and saw that Harry was fully awake now, his wand pointed directly at them.

***

"Harry!" Hermione breathed, her arms folding protectively against her chest.

"What the hell is Malfoy doing here?" Harry added as an afterthought, motioning his head toward him. This was when Hermione realized that they were both without the shield of invisibility, as she had foolishly told Malfoy to carry it himself.

"Quiet, Potter," Malfoy snapped. "I am trying to help Weasley."

"Get away from him, Hermione!" Harry yelled in a warning tone.

"No, Harry, you don't understand!"

"He's got you under some kind of spell, hasn't he?" he barked. Hermione furiously began shaking her head, and tugged at Harry's robes.

"Let's go outside, please, Harry...Malfoy, just do the spell, will you? And _hurry_."

She struggled to get Harry outside of the hospital wing, looking around anxiously before speaking. "Harry, Draco's the only one that knows how to do the spell."

"But..." Harry protested.

"Please, just leave it be. This is our only chance. Ron will be recovered before the time the medic-wizards come through. Please. Trust me." Her eyes prompted him to do so. His mind rushed with flashbacks, a particular one about a certain bushy-haired witch who was scolding Ron about how to do a levitating spell correctly, and then him using it afterwards as a way to knock out a rather gigantic troll.

"Alright. But if wakes, you better tell me what the hell is going on here."

A small smile spread out on her face. He unintentionally pushed several ringlets of her brown hair out of her eyes, and left his hand lingering on her cheek.

"Harry..." Hermione whispered, her eyes glowing frantically. "Don't..."

He paused, but after a second, he leaned over, brushing his lips against hers. It was as if she had been missing a limb from her body for several years; the yearning burned inside of her as his gentle tenderness moved across her mouth, growing harder by the minute. This was nothing like kissing Malfoy. Malfoy had made her dizzy, weak, and feel faint. Harry was making her feel adequate, and she had no idea which was better, Malfoy making her collapse against him, or Harry's lips moving against hers, his hands gently prodding on her waist, his soft lips pressing further into hers. His tongue dipped into her inviting passageway as she let out a small moan, pulling out of his grasp, her hands on his hands, throwing them off.

"Why'd you do that?" she snapped.

He bit his lip. "I..."

"Am I interrupting something here?" a voice said from the open door. It was Malfoy, his face filled with a scowl, his eyes flashing menacingly at him.

"How's Ron?" Hermione and Harry both said quickly at the same time, pulling away from each other, avoiding each other's hopeful gazes.

"He's awake. He didn't see me, because I hid myself with the cloak, at first, but after he woke up, he turned the other way, so you can go see him now," Malfoy informed.

Harry grinned joyfully, pushing Malfoy out of the way and stepping into the hospital wing, which left Malfoy in the hallway with Hermione, in a very awkward and quiet situation.

"Thanks," she croaked. "But don't expect me to thank you if you do this ever again."

He smirked at her. "I won't...expect you to do so, anyways."

"Malfoy..." she said warningly.

"Oh, forget it, Granger, it was just a joke anyways."

"It's not a joke when death is involved," she spat through grinded teeth.

"He wouldn't die."

"Whatever...this is over, you've gotten what you wanted. I hope you never bother us again." With that, she stepped on her heel, and sped toward the hospital wing, but Malfoy grabbed her arm painfully around the wrist.

"What?" Hermione caught her breath in her throat as she saw the observant look hovering over his pale face.

"Can I ..."

"Can you what?" she whispered, breathless at his touch.

"For the last time?" he finished. She didn't query him; she knew exactly what he meant, but she was rather reluctant as he drew forward. She stepped back a few steps, into the back of the door in the hospital wing. His lips finally went over his, and she felt the dizziness arrive once more. All thoughts went out of her mind. This time, he was not gentle. He kissed her with a fury she had never known before. Her senses were broken. Her knees buckled underneath her, and she grabbed hold of the front of his robes from falling. He caught her around the waist, his lips now pondering the skin of her earlobes, going down to her neck, his fingers parting the buttons of her robes, sliding his hand upwards and down of her blouse and her skirt. 

"Hermione? Ron wants to see you," a voice called, but she paid no attention.

She was pressed against the door, as he glided against Hermione. He managed to rip away a few of the securities around her blouse before the door opened behind her, and with a squeal, she was thrown backward, Malfoy on top of her, Harry and Ron peering at them with raised eyebrows from above, their mouths parting into gapes.

***

Hmmm...how ironic *smirks*. Cliffy. I own Oblivito Incantatem. I think. Never saw it in the HP books, so I'll claim it.

Review. More reviews, faster the chapters.

Love,

-S.A. Court


	10. “Oblivito Incantatem!”

**__**

Driven

"What the hell -" Ron sputtered.

Hermione quickly regained her composure once a bit of the shock wore off, and pushed Draco away from her, trying to put a scowl on her face.

"What're you doing, Malfoy?" she spat. "Your pathetic attempt to curse me never works, you know that!"

Malfoy's face went from dumbfounded to rage. It was contorted with red and purple, and he was stuttering words at her, but seemed to have no luck. Finally, he closed his eyes, took an intake of his breath, and walked out without a word.

Hermione glanced at Ron, who was looking at her with furious curiosity. "You know how he is," she said nervously. "He was walking down the hallway and he just cursed me out of nowhere."

Ron broke into a timid, smile. "Are you alright?"

"I am better than alright, Ron! You're okay again!" she said excitedly, wrapping her arms around him. Harry peered at her from his shoulder, questions shining in his eyes. She gave him a 'later' look, before concentrating all her energy on Ron, placing her lips on his. It was like coming home again. The sweet, unwashed taste of him made her feel dazed and giddy, his tongue going across her lips, his hand placed lightly on her hip. When they pulled away, it seemed as if life was freezing. His brown eyes were boring into her own brown ones, a perfect match. His cheeks were flushed, and so was hers, and she looked down at her feet, feeling his touch still lingering on her waist. She had never felt so happy before. The taste of him was so familiar - she could not ever stand to forget it. How long had she suffered without his presence around her? He was so sweet, kind, and gentle, and extremely infuriating, the thing she most loved about him. _Loved_ about him...?

"What happened, do you remember anything about who did it?" Harry interrupted. Hermione glared at him.

"No, that's the weird thing. I don't remember at all. Maybe I drank something I shouldn't have," Ron answered, shrugging it off.

"Well, never mind that..." Hermione said, grinning at him. "You need to get your rest, you've had a very complex ordeal."

"He's had enough rest," said Harry, rolling his eyes. "He's been asleep for nearly a week, 'Mione."

Ron and Harry both laughed at her while she folded her arms across her chest, glaring at both of them.

"Hey, we can play Qudditch tomorrow, if you want. Practice...the next match is in three weeks..." 

"Oh, then I'll have to practice again...I think I've gotten much worse," Ron said, his face burning.

"Boys," Hermione murmured. "Ron, I am going to tell Professor Dumbledore you're awake."

"Won't you get in trouble?" 

"Don't worry about it, Harry, make sure to tell Madame Pomfrey about Ron, alright?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at the jet-black haired friend.

"Alright, alright," he promised, turning back to Ron, and starting to talk again. Hermione exited the hospital wing, sighing as she closed the door behind her. What had happened? She had completely lost control - it was a good thing she thought fast, or else Ron would've found out. Why was this happening to her? Her heart was beating faintly in her chest, thumping excitement ringing in her ears. This wasn't how this was supposed to be - everything was a mess, everything. She had been saving herself for Ron - what would he say if he ever found out? He was likely to find out, of course once they 'did it'. 

"Still here, Granger?" a voice drawled from the darkness. Hermione jumped.

"Who's there?" she asked, looking around frantically.

No answer.

"Hello?" she called, but still only darkness met her eyes. She began to walk away toward Dumbledore's office before something grabbed a hold of her waist, and a sharp blow reached her neck.

***

"You should've waken me!" Madame Pomfrey looked furious with them and herself. She gave them both a deadly glare, as if to say 'I'll get you back for this', and began fluffing Ron's pillows, giving him motherly perspectives on what potion would most likely revive his weak and delicate state ("I am not delicate!" he had argued), and promptly told Harry to go away.

"But, Madame Pomfrey," Harry insisted, looking up at her.

"This isn't going to work," Madame Pomfrey warned. 

"But...I haven't seen Ron in a week! He's my best friend," he said, and didn't dare blink, and let tears well up in his eyes.

"Oh, alright!" Madame Pomfrey snapped. "But just for a few minutes."

"Thank you, Madame Pomfrey," Harry cooed innocently. When she was gone, both he and Ron burst out laughing.

"How'd you do that?" Ron barked through his uncontrollable mirth.

"Didn't blink...tears always come when I concentrate and don't blink..."

"It's good to be awake again, with you and Hermione and stuff," Ron admitted, shyly sinking into his pillows.

"Yeah it is," Harry said, pausing. There was a complete silence. Then, Harry said, "Ron? I have to tell you something about that week...see, I took the Polyjuice Potion and...Ron? Ron?"

He looked back, but Ron was already asleep, his deep breaths filling the room.

Harry sighed. He couldn't let the guilt drown him; it was sinking him inside. He wanted to tell Ron so badly and be forgiven; sure he couldn't help his love for Hermione, but that didn't mean he wasn't allowed to move on. The dreaded feeling had come, the jealousy had risen, the envy when Hermione had fallen inside the wing, Malfoy on top of her...he knew something was going out, something that didn't fit right. But he couldn't figure out what. And the look that Hermione gave Ron after they had kissed - Harry had seen that look - it must've been the look Harry always gave her. It was the look of pure love, something that couldn't be broken, no matter how many times it was shaken.

***

"Think of Weasley, that's right, Granger, think of Weasley," a snarling voice demanded. She struggled in his grip, but closed her eyes, envisioning Ron through the pain he was causing her. She could feel liquid come from her wrists, knowing it was blood. How could anybody have been so hateful, so evil?

She opened her eyes, picturing Ron. Draco's face looked back down at her, and she screamed, yelling Ron's name pathetically.

"That's right, Ron Weasley..."

Draco sank the wand right into her chest, and she could feel her heartbeat stop for a second, Ron's face rushing through her mind.

"Oblivito Incantatem!" he yelled.

Something went out of her heart, something into his grasp...a pinkish air released from her chest as she screamed louder, and he trickled the dust in his hands...and let it go.

It was gone, into the air, floating.

Whatever it was.

It was still gone.

She smiled, dazed, feeling as if she had died.

As if she had died. He leaned foward, and clutched the middle of her chest.

"This ..." he whispered, making circular motions with one finger. "Is mine."

"It's yours," she whispered back, before dozing off in the darkness.

***

Thanks for everyone for reviewing, except "Klen" or whatever your name is (I don't need to be familiar with it, your not worth that). I would appreciate a critique, Klen, or even a flame, but it makes me very angry that you say this story 'sucks' because Draco and Hermione are together for a few scenes. Did I not have equal portions of romance with Harry and Hermione? Why don't you write a happily-ever-boringass story with no obstacles at all, and I'll "review" it. :) 

Remember to review, everyone,

Love,

-Court


	11. Disarray Intentions

**__**

Driven

Hermione woke up, fluttering her eyelashes almost painfully. Her wrists were aching from bloodshed, her throat was dry and unwashed, her lips were chapped, her blood was pounding in her ears. She observed the darkness around her. The only thing luminous was the cot that she had been gently placed on. Her hair was tangled, and she was severely cut at her neck. She winced; looking at the chains that hooked her to the cot so she was not able to make any sudden movements.

"I see you're awake," said a voice beside her. She turned her head weakly with all the strength that she could muster; blinking. It was Draco, who was clothed in fully black robes, his hair wet and slathered over his forehead, his gray eyes glittering with something unreadable. He leaned over, grazing her cheekbone as tenderly as possible, as if she was glass that was too fragile to touch.

"Yes," she replied softly. "I am awake. Where am I?" Her heart raced as he locked his eyes with his; everything seemed to wash away around them. She smiled timidly; he was the only person she could ever want.

"You're with me," he snapped. "Doesn't that mean anything?"

"Of course, Draco," she retorted sweetly, feeling disgust fill her insides. "That means everything."

"Good," he nodded, satisfied, and toppled on top of her, breathing deeply as she squirmed uncomfortably underneath him. He caught his lips with hers; she felt warmth fill her, but it wasn't him she was thinking about. All she could imagine was black hair, emerald eyes. All she could envision in her mind was his soft skin, his tender lips, his loving tendencies. All she could see was Harry.

***

"Let me go with you," Ron pleaded.

"No," Harry said firmly. "This is something I have to do myself, Ron."

"But why?" Ron asked curiously.

"Just trust me," Harry advised, his Invisibility Cloak in his hand and in the other hand, a vial of bubbling, green liquid as it's contents.

"Are you sure this is going to work?" Ron asked, raising his eyebrows at him, looking extremely doubtful.

"I am sure, Ron."

But his friend remained concerned. "But what if; you know, the Polyjuice Potion doesn't work? The only time we've made it was back in our second year, remember? And Hermione got the ingredients and everything..."

Harry's eyes twitched slightly at the memory. "Umm...actually, I've done it twice."

"Twice?" Ron's eyes widened. "When?"

He sighed. He knew he would have to do this sooner or later. "I've left you a letter on my bed, Ron. Read it. Now, remember, that whatever you do is up to you."

"What?"

"Just read it, will you? I have to go."

Harry swung the Invisibility Cloak over himself and vanished within seconds of the concealment. Soon, Ron heard his footsteps fade away. Suspiciously, he gazed at Harry's bed and picked up the white, plain envelope that lay there. Sitting back on the bed, he read Harry's hurried, slanted words:

__

From Harry, your best friend

To Ron

Smiling slightly now, Ron opened the envelope and his eyes began to ponder the written words. Somehow, as instinct, he knew he wouldn't be smiling at the end of it.

***

"Sign it," Draco insisted.

"What is it?" she whispered. 

"It's a contract. Just sign it."

She didn't have to ask what it was. Her mind was forcing her to sign it; the pounding in her head was persuading her. She looked up at him. "I need one of my chains broken, then."

Tenderly, he smiled at her, and with a swish of his wand, the left chain was broken. With difficulty, she wrote her name at the line where Draco's hand was pointing toward, then fell back onto the cot as he bonded her with the chain once more.

"Perfect," Draco said, grinning, and tucking the contract into his robes. "You rest now."

He touched her hair lightly before leaving the enclosed space and slamming the door behind him.

Hermione whimpered, turning her head. She saw something was sparkling on the floor. She squinted her eyes, and a gasp caught in her throat. She now knew why she was feeling this way; the feeling in which something was missing, the feeling in which she had to be forced to be affectionate with Draco. The shattered glass answered her questions. She needn't to smell what was the clear liquid beside the glass; she knew. It was the remains of a carefully constructed potion. A love potion.

***

Err...yeah. I had already completed this story, actually, but now I need to edit the chapters because I've added new things. 

Here's some things to ponder:

1) What's Harry going to do?

2) What was in that contract Hermione signed? (It's HORRIBLE, trust me)

3) Did the 'Oblivito Incantatem' wash Ron away from Hermione's memory, or just the LOVE of Ron? And why does Hermione suddenly feel more for Harry than anybody else?

4) There will be a big surprise at the end of this story. A big event in the end, and a big surprise from me. So review!!!

Playlist

__

Song Listened To:

Are You Happy Now? by Michelle Branch

**__**


	12. Memories

**__**

Driven

Acknowledgment: Ellen.

**__** __

"Did you guys kiss?" she had asked with a furtive glance at Harry. He hesitated, leaning forward a bit, a triumphal smirk wanting to fill his lips.

Harry nodded, slowly and reluctantly. Hermione could remember the way Ron had reacted completely. A bit jealous, but happy for his friend, he had shown his enthusiasm by throwing a punch in midair, a look of knowing covering his face.

She could remember only bits of conversation later.

"So? How was it?" Ron had asked eagerly.

"Wet."

"Are you such a bad kisser?" Ron frowned.

"Of course he's not," Hermione had prompted. Ron looked at her, outraged, obviously furious.

"How do you know?" he challenged, his eyes narrowing.

Hermione opened her mouth to speak when suddenly someone was shaking her awake.

"Please, don't," she whispered, her voice coming out muffled. 

"Hermione," the voice whispered. "Get up."

"Please, Draco, no..."

Her eyes opened and she saw someone she certainly did not expect and did _not want_ to see.

Herself.

***

Harry lurked around the dungeons, unsure of what to do next. Was he being incredibly stupid, being under the Polyjuice Potion? But of course, he was doing this to save Hermione. His chest welled with an incredible soaring feeling that tingled from his arms and through the whole length of his body. He closed his eyes, leaning against the wall, remembering all the times she, Ron and him had spent together. Their first year, they had gotten through to assist Harry on getting the stone before Voldemort came into power again. Their second year, where Hermione had been unconscious, but her logic was still so intact, right there in her very hand that they had gotten themselves down to the Chamber of Secrets. Their third year, where Hermione and him had saved Sirius and Buckbeak...Sirius was too painful too think about right now. He gulped, not wishing to recall further memories. All he knew was that this pain he was feeling was nothing less than the pain that was equal to the worry of his fourth year, where he thought he might lose Ron in one of his very tasks in the Tri-Wizard Tournament.

How could he have done this? How could he have betrayed Ron, when Ron had done so much for him? He had to come clean about the Polyjuice Potion; it was killing him inside. But he knew he was taking a fatal risk at his friendship. Wishing not to ensue this decision, he began to walk down any stairs he found as he pondered the filthy place. He finally found himself in front of the blank wall that led into the Slytherin common room. He waited with his Invisibility Cloak, thinking it might not work - however, it was fortunate that one of the Slytherins had obviously gotten drunk and had proceeded to sneak into the common room without being noticed; hence, how Harry managed to go in, following the person.

He looked around frantically. Where could've Draco taken her, exactly? He wasn't foolish enough to hold her prisoner in his own dorm room, that was accurate, but there had to be somewhere in the common room...his eyes caught on some curtains that hid a window at the end of the common room; it was not noticeable...he trudged forward and separated the curtains with one, swift movement. He saw it was a regular window, and was prepared to feel disappointed but his eyes caught on something that the lower part of the curtains had been hiding. On the wall under the window was a surface outline of something...he tried to pry it open, but it was much too difficult. He took his cloak around after looking around, and pushed onto it, and it moved a bit.

He reached into his robes and took out his wand. "Alohomara?" he tried feebly. To his amazement, the outline of the wall opened, leading to a dark, musky passage below. Putting his wand protectively in his pants pocket, and covering himself with his Invisibility Cloak, he set himself down, trying not to yell as his body was being transported under grounds. What if Hermione wasn't down there at all? What've there was danger waiting for him, and he would never come up again? His heart raced at these questions, but he knew too well that he couldn't dwell on them now; he observed the place had had just landed on. It was a hallway, with only one door. He was about to go in when he realized his Invisibility Cloak had fallen off. Looking around, he saw that it was down the hallway, awaiting his grasp.

Harry walked toward it, but before he could pick it up, a familiar voice found itself into his eardrums.

"Hermione?" someone stammered. "What the hell are you doing out here?"

Harry didn't think. Merely doing the same thing he had once done in third year, he took his wand out and pointed straight at Draco Malfoy.

"Petrificus Totalus," he said, and in one flick and swish, Draco fell to the floor, rigid, unmoving, but his gray eyes piercing into him.

Harry knew this would happen; it was the only reason he had turned into Hermione in the first place. If Draco caught him, he would only be obliviated, therefore giving Harry the chance to attack. If things were different, however, Draco would attack Harry without a single thought.

Biting his lip, Harry turned the doorknob, his heart still painfully wringing in his chest, and entered.

***

Hermione looked absolutely awestruck when she saw him.

"Who the hell are you?" she spat, backing away in the farthest length the chains would let her.

He held up a hand, and began counting down until he started transforming. His nails shortened to their usual bitten down cubicles, his legs went a bit longer, his hair shortened into the messy locks of raven-colored hair he had inherited from his father, and brown suddenly turned into the glowering emerald that his mother had given him. He observed the girl that sat before him. Her clothes were filthy, unwashed. Her brown hair was more tangled than ever in it's most bushiest form, her eyes were wide, with black circles under them. Her face pale, cuts and bruises over her arms and wrists. He flinched. How could she still manage to hold up a beautiful grace, even without looking so good? Damn it,_ even her filthy, stingy state was turning him on_. What the hell was wrong with him? His heart pounded, but he reminded himself of Ron, although his pants were getting rather uncomfortable...

"Harry?" she stammered in disbelief. "Is that really you? Or is it Draco playing a sick joke?"

"It's me."

"Prove it," she said, glancing at him uncertainly.

"Well...we don't have much time," Harry said crossly. "Once Draco wakes up..."

"I said, prove it," she said shrilly. He jumped a bit.

"Alright, alright," he said, gazing at her with an apologetic look. "Umm...well, I know that my first kiss was Cho, that once in third year you used a time turner to get to all your extra lessons, and oh yeah, that you've got a birthmark on your-"

"Enough," she said stonily, closing her eyes. _Inhale, exhale_. "Draco's insane. Get me out of here. Now."

"With pleasure."

***

Finally, I commanded myself to upload this chapter. Sorry for the delay!

Review,

Love,

-S.A. Court


	13. Surprise Ending

**__**

Driven

"What did he do to you?" Harry whispered to her as he silently carried her into the hospital wing, feeling warmth in his arms. Hermione opened her eyes and moaned in pain, squirming in his grip. Feeling vaguely uncomfortable, Harry opened the door with a push of his foot and walked in, and set her down on an empty bed, as gently as possible, brushing the hair off of her face. Her brown eyes squinted back at him, and she had never look so vulnerable.

"Harry..." she whispered softly, pulling her arms around his neck, motioning him further. "Please..."

"Please what?" he breathed back, his hands on either side of the bed, his legs at an awkward angle. He could feel tingling rise as her hand reached up, sliding against his chest. Her palm felt warm against him.

"Kiss me," she demanded.

His eyes widened through his blood-stained glasses as he gave an audible gulp, restraining every emotion inside of him. His heart was pounding against his chest. It hurt too much. "No, Hermione, I can't..."

"Why not? I am your girlfriend, aren't I?"

Harry looked at her blankly. "Hermione, you know your not."

"What? What are you talking about? Of course you are."

"No, Hermione, Ron is," Harry said firmly. He had to do this; he couldn't cause any more drama anymore. All he wanted is to have his two best friends again, and be the same as always.

"Ron?" she repeated, then her eyes widened. "Who's Ron?"

***

__

You have no idea how sorry I am. I love you and Hermione so much and I know you're angry right now, and you have every right to be. You don't have to speak to me anymore, but don't take it out on Hermione, it was my fault. All mine. She's not interested in me, I've seen the way she looks at you and she's never looked at me like that before. Pure, unconditional love. When she looks at me, she sees me as the closest friend she's ever had or something. I have to do this alone. I have to save her one last time; because I know you're not going to let me see her anymore. That's okay, but I can't bear to lose you either. So please think about the conditions I promised. I promise I'll never see her again, I promise I'll do anything you want me to. As long as you forgive me a little. I know this will be hard to do, but please try.

Love,

your best friend (I hope)

Harry.

Ron felt paralyzed. Every bone, joint in his body was numb, and his mind was not getting the messages across. He re-read it several times before it did. The letter fell from his hands. Various emotions were invading his chest. Jealousy, anger, betrayl, sadness, and even a bit content. He had no idea which emotion he should concentrate on; all he knew was that he'd never felt this way in his life. Scared, confused. His body was shaking uncontrollably. 

__

He always gets everything. Because he's famous, he had once told Hermione during his and Harry's fight during fourth year. He always gets everything, Ron thought to himself. 

"Ron?"

The voice startled him as Harry's face came into view. His glasses were smudged with dirt and bloodstains, his shirt dirty and ripped, but then realization came over his face.

"You read the letter," Harry said softly.

"Yes, I did." The stone-cold way he said it shook the air so furiously that Harry backed away.

"Listen, Ron, there's a problem with Hermione's mind, she's in Dumbledore's office, I came to get you to see her..."

"Remember the summer after our fourth year? You blew up on me and 'Mione. See, this is what I am going to do right now. **I AM GOING TO FUCKING BLOW UP. YOU HAVE TO HAVE EVERYTHING DON'T YOU, HARRY? IT'S NOT GOOD ENOUGH IF I HAVE THE GIRLFRIEND THIS TIME AND YOU WANTED HER TOO**?"

"Ron, I lo-"

"**DON'T YOU GET ENOUGH? I KNOW LIKE PLAYING THE FUCKING PART AS POOR ORPHAN BOY THAT GOT MISTREATED BY MUGGLES, BUT WHO GIVES A DAMN? THAT WAS THEN, THIS IS FUCKING NOW**!"

"Orphan boy?" Harry was yelling now. "**OH, SO YOU JUST THINK MY CHILDHOOD WAS A MESS? WHAT ABOUT CEDRIC? WHAT ABOUT FUCKING SIRIUS? WHAT ABOUT YOU? WHAT ABOUT THE TIMES YOU AND HERMIONE ALMOST GOT KILLED AT MY EXPENSE? DO YOU THINK ITS FUN, TO SAVE THE WORLD BY EITHER GETTING KILLED YOURSELF OR BECOME A MURDERER? WELL LET ME TELL YOU SOMETHING, IT'S NOT A FUCKING JOYRIDE! I'D KILL MYSELF IF I EVER LOSE YOU OR HERMIONE, BECAUSE IT'D ALWAYS BE MY FAULT, RON. IT ALWAYS IS. WHENEVER SOMEONE DIES, IT'S MY FAULT, OR I AM PRESENT, OR IT ALWAYS HAS TO BE ME TO SAVE THEIR ASSES! EVERYONE ALWAYS LABELED ME, RON. THE-BOY-WHO-LIVED, BUT I DIDN'T EVEN KNOW WHAT THAT WAS ABOUT BACK THEN! HOW ABOUT 'INSANE EVIL MANIAC', LAST YEAR? EVERYONE THOUGHT I WAS CRAZY. IT'S ALWAYS BEEN 'THE-BOY-WHO-LIVED' OR THE BOY WHO COULD TALK TO SNAKES OR THE BOY WHO SAVED EVERYONE FROM VOLDEMORT! BUT NOBODY FAILS TO NOTICE SOMETHING ELSE, RON. I AM A STUPID, BETRAYING GLASS-WEARING BASTARD, ALRIGHT? I MAY HAVE DONE MY SHARE OF SAVING MYSELF OR OTHER PEOPLE, BUT IT'S ALL DEPENDED ON STUPIDITY, NOT ME. IT'S ALWAYS BEEN IMPULSE! THERE'S NOTHING ELSE TO ME THAN A SCAR AND SOME GLASSES!"**

"OH YEAH, SURE, HARRY! YOUR JUST A GLASS-WEARING BASTARD. THAT'S ALL. IT DOESN'T MATTER THAT YOU'RE WRONG, DOES IT? YOU WERE PUT IN GRYFFINDOR, YOU WERE ALWAYS HARRY POTTER, YOU WERE ALWAYS THE BRAVE ONE, THE ONE THAT WAS ALWAYS BETTER THAN ME. DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY TIMES IN THE MORNING I WAKE UP AND THINK 'I WISH I COULD BE YOU'?" Ron shook with fury, his chin quivering, his eyes twitching slightly.

****

"AND DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY FUCKING TIMES I WISHED I WAS _YOU_?"

Ron and Harry both looked astonished. Harry clutched his head in his hands and plopped backwards into his bed, feeling the ringing in his ears from all the screaming. His throat was dry, his pulse beating increasingly.

"I am sorry, Ron," Harry croaked, nudging his glasses upward slightly with his hand so he would wipe his eyes. He hoped it wasn't too noticeable. Luckily, Ron seemed to have turned away and done something with his hand as well. "I am so sorry...I don't want Hermione. I don't need her as much as I need you."

He almost gasped when the truth came out; but there it was, bluntly positioned.

"What?" Ron retorted, not looking at him.

"Oh, come on, Ron. You were the first one I became friends with in Hogwarts. You know I love Hermione, but - but the truth is, when we had that fight back in fourth year, I felt frustrated; I could hardly stand to be around her at that time..."  


Ron choked back a laugh. "Oh."

"And...,and, in fourth year...you know, in one of the tasks...who was the one I'd most miss?"

"Me," Ron said sheepishly.

"Right. I don't care any more if you date Hermione, all I want is it to be the same again."

"I..." Ron was speechless.

"You know, where I save the world and all that shit, and Hermione goes to the library to look up theories, you flinch at Voldemort's name, and everything like that. I want it to be the same again."

"Me too," the freckled boy agreed.

"But it can't be the same, because..."

"It will be the same," Ron said sternly. "I promise. Well, maybe not the exact same...but...I...think me and Hermione should be just best friends."

"What?" Harry looked at him, surprised. "No, Ron, I couldn't stand that if it was because of me..."

"It isn't," Ron confirmed. "I love her, and she loves me, but not the way I want her to."

"Yeah, she loves me the same way," Harry mumbled.

"Harry? Ron?" said a weak voice behind them. Harry and Ron both turned at Hermione, who was clothed in her robes again, her hair brushed, the damage in her wounds vanished. She wore a small smile on her face.

"You remember him?" Harry asked, motioning toward Ron, who looked immensley puzzled.

Hermione smiled. "Yes, it was actually Malfoy that undid it."

"_Malfoy_?"

"Dumbledore forced him to. And I have some good news," Hermione said excitedly, eyeing Ron.

"You do? And what the hell are you guys talking about, anyways?" Ron asked.

Hermione ignored this question. "Malfoy's going to be most likely expelled."

"Expelled?!" Both Harry and Ron jumped to their feet, tremendous grins on their faces.

Hermione nodded. "Yes."

"YES! FINALLY!" Ron yelled, jumping around frantically in utmost pleasure. Then, he stopped. "But for what, exactly?"

Hermione looked pointedly at Harry, and had a vague recalling of their third year. "You tell him," she decided, smiling at him. 

***

"Love potion?"

"Apparently, when I was asleep by his side, he slipped me some." Hermione shuddered. 

"I can't believe you 'did it' with Malfoy," said Ron and Harry at the same time, jealousy and disgust seeping from their voices.

"Me either. But it was to save your life...you feel okay, right?" she asked, concern washing over her face.

"Yeah...but I might need a sponge bath or something," hinted Ron. Harry bit his lip from laughing.

"Really?" Hermione said, smiling. "Alright, Harry, why don't you help with him that?"

"WHAT!?" Harry and Ron looked at each other in horror.

"So...everything's okay?" Hermione asked. "Everything...is going to be...okay again?"

"Well, it'll be a bit hard getting over the fact that we're not together anymore," said Ron hesitantly. "Who's going to annoy me every second?"

Hermione glared.

Ron grinned. "But I'll get over it. Everything will...be okay."

"Yeah, I guess it will," said Hermione after a deep breath. "Harry?"

Harry looked at both of them, then shook his head. "No, it can never be the same again."

"What?" Ron and Hermione exclaimed in the same time. "Why not?"

"Because I'll never forgive Ron for what he did," Harry said, a solemn look on his face.

"Ron?" Hermione looked confused.

"What did_ I _do?" Ron protested.

"You called me orphan boy. I can - never - forgive that - ever," Harry said, making his eyes well up with fake tears once more.

"Harry!" Hermione said, rolling her eyes, but Ron was already pouncing on him with a nearby pillow, so she shrugged and joined in.

"I assume I am not interrupting anything massively important, then?" a drawling voice quipped. All three friends jumped at the voice, turning to where it had come from.

A boy was standing at the doorway.

It was Draco Malfoy, dressed in black robes, his silver-blonde locks slicked back this time, a cruel smile running along his lips. One eyebrow was raised in a professional manner, and in his hand were two parchments that hung carelessly off his palm.

"What the hell _are you _doing here?" Hermione scoffed, holding back Harry and Ron, who was looking at him "You're supposed to be expelled, Malfoy," she told him bitterly.

"I am, aren't I?" Draco shrugged, the smile faltering only slightly. "However...I have unfinished business before I leave the castle grounds."

"What does this have to do with Hermione?" Harry asked through gritted teeth. He was being restrained from killing him with his bare hands.

Draco's smile turned into a smirk in retort, and he calmly outstretched his hand, where the two parchments were neatly folded in halves. Hermione reluctantly stepped forward.

"No! You don't know what it is!" Ron exclaimed.

"Relax," Hermione murmured.

She grasped the parchments, and opened it carefully, flipping the creases downwards, and peered over the words with a sudden forbidding in her stomach, a leap in her heart, and saw her own, cursive signature at the end of the contract.

She felt frozen ice go through her veins. She could feel her throbbing temples as she reread the contract.

And got the shock of her life.

***

1:17 P.M., August 11th.

Modified Ending, August 30th, 2003

6:08 P.M.

***

Alright, people. Calm down. Do. Not. Kill. Me. Yet. I told you an upcoming event was making it's arrival at the end. Yes, this is the end of the fic. Calm down, however.

I told you I also had a surprise in store for you.

Ready for this?

A sequel.

That's right, there might be a sequel. I don't know for sure, I've actually been out of this fic for a while now, so I'd really appreciate some encouragement. Leave your email if you don't recieve update notices and would like to if the sequel comes out (yes, I've written the first chapter, but I am not sure you guys will like it).

And - by encouragement, I mean the following things:

1) Support , pure support.

2) Some reccomendations. I am in my G/D phase right now, and if you have any spectacular H/HR fics, I'd love them by review, email, MSN messenger, AOL IM, any way possible.

3) Don't tell me what or what not to write; I really hate when people do that. Especially if they say ' I like your fic, but hurry up with the H/HR stuff, and DONT put D/HR', etc. You're allowed to have an opinion, I don't mind this (example: Love your fic, I wish Malfoy would get what he deserves, though.), and I love all of your opinions, but nobody has the right to tell me what or what not to put. 

****

I write for myself.

4) Review. Reviews help. And please not one sentence reviews. Some encouraging, critique, reviews. I'd love them. I really need them right now.

Now, now, onto the chapter a/n's.

Playlist

American Life by Madonna

A/Ns:

I am really sorry if the Ron and Harry thing was sort of... "queer", but I thought it was cute and very sweet. Oh, who am I kidding...if it wasn't for the "H/HR" shipping, I would've made them make out any time now. Oh, yes, I know you reviewers will hate me since it's not H/HR...I really don't know WHICH shipping it was, exactly, it was like a twist story that kept going on and on and on with drama. I hoped you enjoyed reading this, as much as I enjoyed writing it.

****

Love to all my reviewers, silent readers, critiquers, and more,

and please read Ellen Wittlinger's "_Hard Love_" (it's nothing like this story, but it did prompt me to write this story in the first place),

****

-S.A. 


End file.
